Nettie is eating ice cream. The cold burns against her silver incisor, but feels good against the small cut inside her mouth she’d gotten last week. It’s an even trade.
Nettie is all about even trades.
Most think that they liked to be paid in money. Old money, sure, gold and silver that doesn’t have the same sort of inflation risk as paper, but that implies that they have something to spend it on.
No, Nettie’s maybe the only one who knows what sort of things monsters like to be paid in and is willing to provide it. Which is why she’s sitting in the middle of a park at 3 am waiting for her contact to arrive.
At 3:03, her contact’s preferred meeting time, the fog rolls in. Nettie rolls her eyes as it creeps through the sparse trees ahead of her, turning the grass silver under the moonlight with precipitation. So dramatic and not at all secretive. Her eyes flick up to the security camera mounted on the lamppost across the street. She wonders when the government will admit they see monsters at night. She hopes it’s not in her lifetime.
That’d be bad for business.
The outline of a tree several yards away from her begins to waver. It looks like someone might be behind it, a darker band appearing around the trunk as if someone is hugging it. Then they’re gone and the same wavering, black shadow appears behind a tree several feet ahead of it.
Nettie watches and eats her ice cream, glad that her leather jacket is hiding the way her arm hair is standing on end. She’s never been the type to hide her fear.
Then she met beings who enjoyed it.
A dark pool in front of her widens, the shadows twisting upwards. She calmly takes a bite of the cone as the shade forms, the shadow creature not stopping until it’s reached its full height at seven feet.
She feels the sensation of pumice in her mind and frowns. “Gren? Where’s Mandy?”
The shadow figure ripples, for once not kicking up a fuss at her nicknames for them. An orange light flares briefly in what one might assume was its hand but she knew to be its mouth.
The different positions in which Steve has carried Tony to bed:
the bridal carry (for when tony’s fast asleep at his work bench and steve can just scoop him up and carry him to their room)
the fireman’s carry (this doesn’t happen regularly but it’s usually for when tony’s puts up a fight and whines because he’s not finished working. steve will roll his eyes, pick tony up with ease and throw him over his shoulder. steve has been punched in the kidneys a lot for using this)
the koala hug (here, tony will just latch himself to steve’s front and will wrap his legs around his waist and just hold on. steve has him in a secure hold and tony’s usually asleep by the time they’re upstairs)
the piggyback (not even to bed, tony just wants to feel like tall people sometimes)
request: Can you write about Harry getting a new personal trainer to help him get in shape (like boxing and cardio and stuff) and he gets set up with a really pretty girl and he really likes her but she won’t date her clients and he tries to persuade her and ya whatever you come up with!!!
i had a lot of fun writing this one so i hope you guys like it ((: a huge thank you to @stylishmuser for reading this over for me ily
You’re pounding away at the punching bag in your pastel pink gloves, sweat dripping down your forehead and french braids bouncing against your shoulders as music blasts through your headphones.
You’re expecting a new client soon and sometimes your nerves act up when that happens, knowing you’re an amazing personal trainer, but knowing sometimes men can’t see past your pretty body or your “girly” pink gloves. On top of that, you’d been informed that your new client was Harry Styles, former member of One Direction. The most high profile client you’d ever had.
You don’t hear him come in behind you as you’re hitting the bag as hard as you can to fight off your anxiety, sending it flying on the chain in the opposite direction. As it’s swinging back in your direction, you take the time to swing your leg around with the intention of kicking the bag in a more dramatic move than necessary. But as you twist your body your leg narrowly misses the man and he falls over trying to avoid a kick to the gut. In your shock you lose your balance and fall back on your butt, the bag swinging forward and colliding with your head instead of the foot it was meant for.
Ripping your headphones off and standing immediately, you tower over him, “Christ, don’t you know better than to sneak up on someone who’s training?”
“I’m sorry, I was trying to let you know I was here without startling you.” He stuck out his hand, “I’m Harry. It’s nice to meet you.”
1. Stop sleeping for stretches longer than 20 minutes
2. Hold poop on your hands
3. Spend 40% of your income on diapers
4. Refer to yourself in third person
5. Draw on all your favorite things
6. Tell someone they need to pee
7. Punch yourself in the face, nipple, and kidney
I can't help but wonder about the painkillers that Ward has been prescribed. When talking to Joy, he blames back pain and brings up muscle relaxers but it makes me wonder if he's had injuries here and there caused by Harold that started it all and he just hides it. They don't prescribe that strong stuff for nothing! How long has he been suffering and keeping it to himself? *sigh*
I’VE WONDERED THIS TOO FRIEND! I’m glad you brought this up, I’ve been mulling it over for a while, especially since we see Ward taking painkillers before we ever see Harold hit him.
And then we finally do see Harold hit him, Ward doesn’t exactly seem shocked or surprised. Just fearfully submissive. So we can safely assume Harold has done this many times before, probably when Ward starts smart-mouthing him or disobeys his orders.
So yeah, I definitely think Ward has the pain pills because Harold has injured him on many occasions.
When talking to Joy, I have no doubt Ward was referring to the injury Harold gave him when he punched him in the back/kidney area.
(Also, the fact Ward chuckles when he says it FREAKING KILLS ME.) He’s so embarrassed about it (I’m sure he was embarrassed about overdosing the previous night too, but even that ties back to Harold’s abuse). Probably deeply ashamed too. Who knows how long this has been going on? Years? Does it happen very often or just once in a great while? Maybe just long enough to make Ward start to believe Harold wouldn’t hurt him anymore?
Thanks for taking prompts! Should I not be too late for this meme and if it please you, could I ask for a 16 RaphxCasey? I love when you make those two work hard, and nothing says "self-conscious turtle & boyfriend" more than quiet sweetness. Alternately, Apritello 17? If you already have your fill of requests, don't worry: I'll take my popcorn and enjoy with gusto the other prompts you choose to write! :)
16. when one person’s face is scrunched up, and the other one kisses their lips/nose/forehead
Raph’s known Casey for ten years, and in that time, Casey’s had twenty-seven jobs. They all start the same way: Casey comes slamming into the lair or April’s apartment, wherever everyone’s hanging out that night, and yells “My dudes! Guess who’s gainfully employed!”. Then he flexes for a while, invades someone’s personal space – usually Donnie’s, sometimes Leo’s – till someone bites the bullet and asks for the full story.
Twenty-seven times Raph’s done this rodeo, and he knows exactly where it’s going to end. Maybe in three days, maybe in six months, but there’s only one place Casey ever ends up: fired.
(”Does it ever bug you?” Raph asked him once, right after Casey was very politely asked to get the hell out of PetSmart and to please never come back. “Like, when April got fired from Trader Joe’s, she punched a hole in the wall.”
Casey just shrugged. “I mean, yeah, it sucks, but I get it. Not many places are gonna be pumped about a cashier comin’ in with bruises all the time. Kinda scares the customers.”
Both of them knew there was no way Casey was gonna stop what gave him the bruises, because Casey Jones is Lawful Stupid and would be till the day he died.)
It’s different this time. Raph swings through the living room window, six pack under his arm and ready to huddle under a blanket to watch the game, just to find the living room empty.
“Case?” he calls. “You there?”
Something rattles in the kitchen. Raph heads in that direction, after a backwards look to make sure April’s door is good and closed. Not that he minds having April around, but he’d just rather not have her around being a turd about how the Rangers are going to crap out, again. Casey’s already enough of a headcase about them as it is.
But April’s door is closed, and the only light in the apartment is coming from the kitchen. Raph walks inside to find Casey at the stove, glaring into a pot of boiling water, tapping a metal spoon against the side.
“I’m here.” Raph drops the beers on the table and sits down in his usual seat. “What’s for dinner?”
Casey ignores him to keep tapping the spoon against the pot. From what Raph can see through the heavy sweep of his hair, Casey’s scowling, face all creased up, like Donnie’s when some experiment dares to betray him by not succeeding immediately.
“Hey,” says Raph, kicking Casey in the leg. “Anybody home?”
“Whoa, what crawled up your ass and died?” Raph reaches for a beer, because it’s obviously going to be that kind of night, and he might as well get started now. “I was just asking –”
“Yeah, I know, and I answered.” Casey glares at him, brows low and mouth tugged down in a hard curve. “Or did you want me to read you the ingredients while I was at it?”
Raph avoids feelings, talking about feelings, thinking about feelings, and having feelings as much as possible; that kind of stuff slows you down in a fight, when all you should be thinking about is how to take the bad guys down hard enough so that they don’t get up again. Do your job, do your best, and things will work out.
He’s got feelings, he just doesn’t deal with them. But sometimes he makes an exception for Casey, because there’s a soft gooey center under all that hair gel and ego, and something in Raph – something just as soft, that he’s never going to admit to having – wants to make sure that nothing keeps Casey down for good.
“You okay?” he asks, popping the cap off another beer and holding it out to Casey. “Because if you’re not, you should…talk to April.”
Critical miss! yells Donnie inside Raph’s head.
“Yeah, because talking to Little Miss Perfect’s gonna make everything all better. Thanks for that, Raph.” Casey takes the beer and drains half of it in a gulp.
“Or you could talk to me,” Raph says in a rush, before he can stop himself. He scratches the back of his neck, not looking at Casey, and silently sighs in relief when Casey drops into the seat across from him.
“I got fired,” Casey says, once he’s finished his beer. “Go ahead, I think it’s your turn for the I told you so.”
Normally, Raph would be all over that, but Casey’s usually the one to start making fun of himself once the inevitable hits. He doesn’t try to boil spaghetti water with his brain, and he doesn’t shit on April. And this job had meant something to Casey. Raph’s a dick, but he’s not an asshole. “I’ll pass,” he says. “What happened?”
Casey’s scowl deepens, hard lines on either side of his mouth and at his eyes. “Came in late and beat up one too many times, same as always,” he says. “Can’t have the kiddos seeing their coach all beat to hell. Bad example. Or that’s what the school board said.”
There’s a beat of quiet, then Casey drops his forehead to the table. “Fuck,” he says, muffled by the wood. “Just this once, I thought I was doin’ something good.”
Raph squirms in his seat. It sucks for Casey, more than anyone can say, but he’s got no idea how to handle this. How pathetic is this, that Casey’s his boyfriend but even Donnie could handle this better?
Casey stays facedown on the table, his hands clenched in his hair, till Raph feels the irresistible impulse to stand up, lean over the table, and lift Casey up by the shoulders.
“You were doing something good,” he says, the words nearly choking him. “They’re assholes. I’m sorry.”
And then, because Casey’s still scowling and Raph has no idea what to do next, he kisses Casey on the forehead, like he’s seen April do whenever Donnie gets into a funk.
There’s another beat, and then Casey snickers. “Oh my god,” he says. “That’s so sweet. You been takin’ lessons?”
Raph pulls away so he won’t strangle Casey with his own bandanna, and grabs the beer. “You’re the worst,” he says, stalking back toward the living room. “I try to do one thing –”
“It was just really heterosexual!” Casey yells, following him and grinning like an asshole now. “I’m not used to –”
Raph tackles him to the floor and starts punching for his kidneys, but Casey is laughing, and hey, at least now he’s dealt with feelings for the next year or so, right?
Keith pivoted and placed his hands on Allura’s desk, flat. “Do you want to know what one of the first things he said to me was?”
“Before or after you punched him in the kidney?”
“After, obviously. He said sorry!” Keith nearly shouted. “He said he was sorry and the whole time he kept looking back to give pointed glares at Hunk so it was obviously a set-up apology to ease tension, and then he said to make up for it he was going to tell me one of his best jokes, and here it is, Allura, the joke that’s haunted me since: how does a Japanese dog say hello?”
An excerpt from Jackie’s ( @tessagray-herondale-carstairs ) amazing Voltron Detective AU fic, “Hell or Glory”, written and illustrated for @voltronbigbang. It was really fun to work with and get to know her; she’s a really great author and friend 😊😍😚 Click for better quality, I’ll post a link to the fic when it’s available!
Renee was sitting on the hood of Andrew’s car, arms crossed over her chest, feet resting on the curb. Her pastel tinted hair was tied back tight and pinned to her skull; she had learned early on that Andrew fought dirty and would use any advantage, including yanking loose hair or a ponytail. Not that Renee played by the rules, either. Andrew had suffered from more than a few kicks to the groin that left him limping and surly.
Andrew unlocked the car and Renee slid into the passenger seat. She didn’t bother trying to talk to him and gazed absently out the window, a small smile on her lips. They drove until they got to the court and Andrew punched in the code to let them in. The halls were dark and echoed with their footsteps. Andrew moved quicker, wanting to get out of the tunnel-like space and onto the open court.
The massive space dwarfed them. Without the team to distract him or the crowd to fill the seats Andrew felt uneasy; the area was too large to keep track of. He tried to imagine bringing Rain here: what would the wary runaway make of this place? He remembered Rain’s bizarre reaction to hearing that he and Kevin and Nicky played Exy; it was like the kid had seen a ghost. What was going on with him? Runaway, victim, liar. Andrew didn’t like those variables.
He and Renee did their warm-up stretches and then faced off, circling each other. Andrew put aside his concerns about Rain and focused on Renee, she was a crafty fighter and if he let his guard down he would pay for it. Renee extended her arm towards him, palm up, and beckoned him with her fingers, a cocky grin on her usually serene face.
“We’re not in a fucking martial arts film, Walker,” Andrew growled.
Reader request: Dean x reader where they meet at a hunter bar and the reader helps Dean get out of a fight after he hustles some guys at pool? Just a lot of badassery on her part and he’s impressed by her maybe? - anon
Characters: Dean Winchester x female reader
Word Count: 2385
Warnings: nsfw, explicit language (Dean has a potty mouth), explicit sexual content, oral sex (male receiving), drinking, bar fight
Notes: unbeated and Kristen999
promised me Pinot grigio
Disclaimer: writing for fun not for profit.
Steve stared up at the ceiling. It was a very nice ceiling.
White-ish, a few girders, and more than a few spiders’ webs. The windows needed
a good clean. Why was the sun shining? There were grey clouds at the edges,
rolling over the ceiling.
He looked at the insides of his eyelids for a long while.
Unconsciousness, not quite, more like a rest as he worked on getting his breath
back. He was breathing pretty shallowly, because his ribs hurt like a
Being shot at close range had a tendency to bruise ones
ribs. He cackled inwardly at the mock-BBC announcer’s voice echoing in his
head. Concussions were always weird. Punched in the head. Punched in the
kidneys. Punched in the face. Half-suffocated. Why were people invested in
At least this time it hadn’t been water torture.
That was something.
He decided to lie on the floor for the rest of his life.
Living with herpes. Man, that’s a tough one. Sometimes, it is the most inconsequential part of my life. I practically forget that I have it, because doesn’t make too many guest appearances.
Then, one day you wake up and your back and testicles have this dull ache in them, like you got punched in the kidneys the day before and you know the storm, it’s a-comin’. Only, even then, it’s not the worst thing in the world. A couple sores that resemble pimples. They just last a little longer and end up itching. No big deal.
I have had this for over three years and I can honestly say that the most embarassing/painful/shitty part is the stigma. The worry that no one will ever be able to get past that with you in pursuing a new relationship. That your friends & family will find out. That your life is over. I am here to tell you that YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL AND EVERYTHING WILL BE OK. Sure, I still get depressed sometimes over it and it is incredibly easy to feel like damaged goods. An STD means you’re a slut and a stupid one, at that, right? WRONG. An STD just means “shit happens.” Honestly, think of how much worse it could have been!
As for the relationship thing, it might be the best thing that ever happened to you. It’s an immediate litmus test for weeding out people that aren’t worth your time. I won’t tell you it isn’t scary telling people about HSV and waiting for their response. It’s terrifying. But like anything, it gets easier with time. Plus, you learn to love yourself. You take better care of your body. You eat healthier. You learn that you don’t need anyone else to feel complete. You learn that if someone immediately decides not to be with you as a result of this, their feelings were not reciprocated and they would have bailed eventually anyways. I have been single for six months and have grown by leaps and bounds since then. I appreciate myself in a way that I never did before.
I feel like I’ve started rambling and lost my train of thought. So, I will end with this: You are not damaged goods. You have value. You are beautiful and everything will be ok. And if you ever need to talk, my inbox is here. Have a great day/night/life!
Castiel smiles and gives his own hum in response, leaning forward while Dean turns in his arms. Their good morning kiss is soft and sweet and wonderful, with the hunter burying his hands in Cas’s dark hair and the angel palming the bared skin of freckled hips. With a pleased little groan, Dean throws his leg over Castiel’s waist.
“There’s no time,” Cas mumbles against the other’s mouth.
Dean huffs. “We’ll make time.”
There’s a rumbling in the distance.
Both men pull away, blue eyes narrowing as Dean gives a shaky exhale and bites his lip. “Fuck.”
Castiel only holds him more tightly, his fingers tracing the apple of Dean’s cheek while he applies a painfully sweet kiss to his hunter’s mouth. Dean squeezes his eyes shut.
“Dean. Look at me. Only at me.”
When green eyes flicker open, Cas gives his best smile, lifting Dean’s hand to press love into his knuckles and fingertips. “Happy new year,” he murmurs. “May this year be better than the last.”
Dean barks a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah. Happy new year.”
The rumbling is louder now, and Cas can already feel himself losing purchase on the scene. His heart squeezes and tears spring to his eyes and he holds Dean as tightly as he possibly can despite the fact that his grip is disintegrating. “I’ll always come for you,” he murmurs desperately. “You know that, right?”
“Yeah,” Dean says. “I do.”
He disappears mid-kiss.
*** “UP, INMATE! GET UP!”
Dean barely has time to figure out what’s happening before he’s yanked from his pallet and thrown against the wall. A bucket of freezing cold water is dumped on his head, further discombobulating him as the guard puts a pillowcase over his head and cuffs around his wrists.
“Boss wants to see you. He’s got some questions.”
A punch is delivered to Dean’s kidneys for his efforts. “Did I say you could talk?! Get up! UP!”
Dean closes his eyes. Cas, where are you?
Miles away, Castiel wakes in an empty bed, drenched in a cold sweat.
Hello again XD I tried not to make the mantra sound bad but I failed TuT better luck next time though I guess. I hope you are doing very well and if you are being attacked you can aim for the lower back to hit their kidneys and make them pee blood!! (nothing like a random self defense tip)
Ooh really? I never knew that!
I really duno how you gon punch that spot easily, but the more you know - this be your kidney location, no im not using this as an excuse to draw a naked back
In the yard, you
stood by the fence alone, your eyes constantly flitting towards any sign of
to, your eyes landed on Michael, who was sitting with an old man that had a cat
in his jacket and a book in his hand. They spoke for a few minutes, neither
giving off any particular sign of emotion until the old man stood and walked
away rather abruptly. Three men took his place, standing in front of Michael.
You watched carefully, and it escalated quickly. One hit Michael in the kidney,
then he jumped up, punching a different guy in the jaw. You wished to high
heaven that you knew what they had talked about. You also wished that you didn’t
have an interest, but that ship sailed apparently.
Inmates cheered at
the fight, and Michael grunted as they beat him with a white pipe. He fought
back, but ended up on the ground curled up for protection.
It feels like I was just attempting to be better at posting updates when I fell off the planet again…
welp, I’m back and I got big news medblr….
I PASSED MY FIRST YEAR OF MEDICAL SCHOOL OH DEAR LORD HOW DID I DO THAT??!?!
Not going to lie, it was very stressful at the end. Our final systems block was Renal and it felt like getting punched in the kidneys everyday. Other responsibilities started to ramp up and lots of family and friends events all plopped right in the middle of it. But there is a lot of truth to the statement “Do the next thing.” It’s definitely why I made it through, and I don’t regret the stress of enjoying each thing as it came! I have this summer mostly off, other than clinic responsibilities and a basic research project. You’ll be hearing more from me, for real this time.
like the demon-fighting is one thing but I’m officially declaring it Illegal to mess with Waverly’s interpersonal relationships/home life in season 2 like THESE are the only kinds of problems Waverly and her loved ones should be having:
Nicole and Willa get the same haircut and are embarrassed to be in a room together.
They get Shorty’s back, and while Bobo was kind enough to fix the taps he has shitty taste in beer and now they have all these garbage kegs.
Waverly and Chrissy sit at a table and get a little wine drunk after one of her shifts, and now the entire town of Purgatory knows how good Nicole is in bed.
Wynonna will not stop making inappropriate comments about how good Nicole apparently is in bed.
(”So Nicole, I heard you’re a real wizard of Waverly’s place….”)
Nicole tries to walk out of the house in a bolo tie and they have to have A Talk about it.
Because he is such a private man, Waverly is unsure what to get Dolls for his birthday. Spoilers, her gift is the best and most thoughtful.
Nicole has to arrest Wynonna and Willa for cow tipping.
Waverly gets Doc a job as the Town Hall secretary and he becomes Quite the Gossip.
The paperwork for making a legally dead person legally alive again is long and arduous.
Wynonna becomes convinced she can cook and they have to have a Family Meeting about it.
Wynonna is banned from the county fair for life bc she got mad at a rigged game and pulled Peacemaker on it (”I didn’t even shoot it!” “Because Nicole had the good sense to punch you in the kidneys!” “Yeah thanks for that, by the way” “I panicked!”).
Willa breaks the hands of every man in Purgatory for touching her (and occasionally Wynonna or Waverly) without permission. Neadley begs her to wait until he is retired to outright kill a man, and no one has the heart to tell him that horse is loooong out of the barn. And the barn was burned to the ground.
Due to a series of unfortunate yet unavoidable events, Nicole has to arrest Wynonna for indecent exposure. She is banned from the town garden festival for life.
Every single person that Waverly knows has seen her at least partially naked because her and Nicole cannot keep it in their damn pants and they get walked in on constantly. They have to have a Town Hall about it.
Game Night is absolute pandemonium because Wynonna cheats constantly and is bad at it, Dolls cheats more selectively but is very good at it, and Doc is certainly never not cheating but they can never tell how. Waverly is adamant about memorizing and sticking to the rules, Willa is equally aggressive about loopholes and technicalities, and everyone is rabidly competitive and hates to lose. Naturally they resolve to have Game Night every week.
Waverly has to explain over the phone how to do a mission-critical computer thing to Doc and Willa, the only two who know literally nothing about computers.
Wynonna and Willa get Nicole drunk on the Hassell brothers’ moonshine and they end up soaking wet on the homestead porch at 3 AM, each loudly threatening to “tell Waverly on” the other two. Waverly is standing right behind them.